Not Just a Number
by Inksaber
Summary: Under General Krell, there are no names, just numbers. The clones under his harsh command have begun to see themselves as expendable- until they temporarily serve with the 501st. Set sometime during season 2.


**Inspired by a post on tumblr (by soveryradical) talking about how sorry they felt for the clones under Krell's command. I then went back and watched Darkness on Umbara and remembered how badly Krell treated the 501st and this ended up happening. I've never written much about the clones before (I've really been stepping out of my comfort zone these last few months haha) but I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"I don't approve of this."

CT-4332 fights the urge to look at his fellow troopers as they stand at attention before their General. He knows they're all thinking the same thing- General Krell never approves of anything. It was one of the first things they'd learned under his command, fresh off of Kamino.

"I'm aware of this, sir," says their commander, CC-5893, standing up straighter, "but the orders come directly from the Jedi Council. General Skywalker needs reinforcements on Oracia and we're closest to his position. But we can't afford to just abandon the battle here, so they've decided to send just a few squads- to even out the numbers, sir."

The General's mouth tightens as he stares down at them and CT-4332 clenches his jaw under his helmet, waiting for the commander to be reprimanded for speaking out. But the General just turns away.

"I fear the Council may be making a mistake," he says darkly. "It is vital that I have full command over my troops, or we may not win this fight here on Aronax." He sighs. "But I will obey their wishes. Prepare to move out immediately."

"Yes, sir," CC-5893 says, saluting, and the General strides away without a backwards glance. Some of the tension drains from CC-5893's shoulders, but it's never gone completely, has been there as long as CT-4332 has known him. He, more than the others, feels the pressure of keeping on Krell's good side. It's as if he thinks that by keeping the General placated, he can stop Krell from ordering more Suicide Runs, as they all call them by now, but really, it's no use. Krell's only mood is _bad_ and his favourite tactic is _full forward assault._

They're clones. They were bred to follow orders, to fight in this war. CT-4332 knows this. He's accepted this. And his brothers have, too.

What he still has trouble accepting, all these months later, is that hundreds upon hundreds of his brothers have died under Krell's command. And most of those deaths were needless.

"You heard the General," CC-5893 says. CT-4332 can't see his expression, but he imagines the commander is wearing his grin/grimace expression that usually follows one of Krell's briefings. "Let's move out."

* * *

Once upon a time, there had been five clones in CT-4332's squad.

They'd had names. Dimly, he remembers them. More so, he remembers their numbers. There are no names under Krell. Usually, there are no survivors, either. That's just how their General operates.

CT-00-6034. CT-2323. CT-9120. CT-786. Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action. Killed in action.

All except for him.

The troopers CT-4332 work with now come from similar backgrounds. They're the few survivors of Krell's brutal tactics, all from different squads, cobbled together in a new company.

They call themselves Hazard Company.

("It's hazardous to serve under Krell," CT-8808 joked once. Nobody laughed. CC-5893 pushed the datapad towards the other clone after tallying the body count of their last mission and 8808 stopped laughing, too. Some things just aren't funny.)

CT-4332 looks around at his brothers as they step into gunships and prepare to fly to Oracia to aid General Skywalker in the fight there. He's heard a bit about Skywalker, about his unorthodox methods, about how reckless he is. Krell is ruthless, but he's good at what he does. Skywalker... well, apparently, he's just reckless.

CT-4332 grips his blaster tighter, feeling grateful for the armour that hides his apprehension.

What if they're just going from bad to worse?

* * *

Oracia is a dry, hot planet, rich in some sort of mineral that both the Republic and the Separatists need. CT-4332 can't remember the name of it for the life of him, he just knows that the clankers want it, and so it's his job to keep them from having it. Standard mission, really.

He's baking in his armour as he trudges towards the rendezvous point with the rest of Hazard Company, but he blocks it out of his mind, along with the sweat sliding down his face. If there's one thing he's learned from his time serving Krell, it's that discomfort doesn't matter. Completing the mission is the only important thing.

"Approaching the rendezvous point now," crackles CC-5893's voice in his ear, and CT-4332 looks up, straining to see life among the cracked, dry landscape. There isn't much to see- skeletal trees twist up into a dull orange, cloudless sky and an empty riverbed winds it's way into the distance. The barren plant life will provide little cover if they're ambushed by the enemy. If there are minerals on Oracia, they must be very far underground, because the surface is a maze of dusty cracks, driving deep into the ground. CT-4332 suddenly misses Kamino and it's never-ending rain. He's getting thirsty just _looking_ at this place.

A canyon lies on the horizon, holding promises of a change in scenery and protection from potential seppies. If General Skywalker is smart, he'll have set up his base of operations there.

(CT-4332 hopes he's smart, because he'll never say it out loud, but he could really use a break from the relentless sun.)

His guess was right, because as Hazard Company approaches the canyon, he spies two clones coming up to meet them. They're marked with the telltale blue of the 501st, but CT-4332 doesn't see General Skywalker with them. He frowns to himself. Of course the General wouldn't be obligated to come and meet the reinforcements. He's a _General_ \- they don't do that sort of thing, especially for clones. CT-4332 certainly wouldn't have expected a personal welcome from General Krell.

"Hazard Company, right?" chirps a voice that definitely doesn't belong to a clone, and out from behind the 501st troopers steps a Togruta girl who doesn't look a day over fifteen.

 _Well, you were right,_ CT-4332 can't help but think to himself, _not Skywalker. But a kid? What is he playing at?_

CT-4332 has met kids before. Jedi kids, even. But he doesn't remember them looking this... um, small.

CC-5893 clears his throat before replying and CT-4332 takes comfort in knowing he wasn't the only one caught by surprise.

"That's us," the commander replies, standing at attention. This kid might be, well- a _kid_ , but she's still a Jedi, judging by the weapon hanging on her belt, and she deserves respect. CT-4332 snaps to attention as well.

"Uh- at ease," the girl says, looking uncomfortable. "I'm glad you're here- we weren't sure we were going to get reinforcements at all. The separatists have set up a base pretty much over top of the mineral mine and it's been a _nightmare_ trying to break their defenses."

"What have they got?" asks CC-5893, and the Jedi turns to go back the way they came, hanging back to fall into stride with the commander.

Well. That's new. In CT-4332's experience, Jedi love either being one step ahead of their troops or following them from behind. Never has he seen one just... hang back in the middle to carry an equal conversation.

The girl sighs. "The usual. Heavy cannons, ray shields, droidekas, the works. Fortunately, their commander is a Neimoidian and they're all slimy cowards. If we can get into the base and force him to surrender, it'll all be over, but he's surrounded himself with heavy firepower that gonna be really hard to get past. Believe me. We've tried."

"So what's General Skywalker's plan?" asks CT-1102 from CC-5893's other side. Instead of puffing up and getting outraged that a clone dared to ask a question without proper respect, this Jedi just shrugs ruefully.

"I'll ask him that when he wakes up," she says. "They got us pretty hard with those heavy cannons. Master Skywalker is still unconscious." Her face falls into an expression of worry, before it melts into something more cheerful. "That leaves me in command until he's awake, which Kix said could take a while."

"Sorry to ask this, sir, but who are you, exactly?" CC-5893 asks hesitantly, voicing what CT-4332 is sure all of Hazard Company was thinking. The girl's eyes widen.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "Sorry. I'm Commander Ahsoka Tano, Master Skywalker's Padawan." She points to her right. "This is Hardcase and that's Jesse." She stares back at CC-5893, clearly expecting an introduction in return.

"Commander Tano," CC-5893 says, nodding respectfully, "I'm Clone Commander Fifty-Eight Ninety-Three. It is an honour to serve with you and the 501st."

Commander Tano frowns at him. "That's a bit of a mouthful. How about a nickname I can call you?"

Nicknames.

Clones are numbers. Clones don't have nicknames.

" _I will not indulge your childish games. There is no place for nicknames on a battlefield, CT-4332."_

 _"My name is Hollow, sir."_

 _"CT-4332, have I made myself clear?"_

 _"Yes, sir."_

 _Hollow._

 _CT-4332._

 _Hollo-_

 _CT-4332._

 _Hol-_

 _My name is CT-4332._

There are no names under Krell.

A shared remembrance flickers through Hazard Company. For most of them, it's been so long since they were a name, not a number, that it's a foreign thing to remember at all. It's easier, sometimes, to see themselves as General Krell sees them- numbers, marching in lines. Numbers, dying in droves. It numbs them to the reality of what they endure every day.

 _CT-786 and CT-2323 are dead_ hurts less than _Ringer and Micah are dead._

 _CT-00-6034 didn't make it_ doesn't leave the same mark on a soul that _Ash didn't make it_ does.

 _CT-9120 was on Krell's latest Suicide Run_ is easier to hear than _Lock is gone and now all of your squad is dead but you._

Saying his name out loud feels too much like acknowledging that there's something very wrong with the way Krell does things. CT-4332 can do a lot, but he's not sure he's ready to deal with that.

He looks at his commander.

CC-5893 is frozen in place, one hand clenched by his side. CT-4332 has seen him make the toughest of calls in the middle of a firefight, fought beside him in countless battles, and never has he seen his commander freeze up like this, the result of a simple question.

Clones weren't designed to freeze up. They weren't designed to break down, or develop PTSD, or have mental trauma of any kind. What has happened to them all? Are they malfunctioning? _All_ of them?

Clones also weren't designed to have names. Originally, they were all numbers, numbers assigned to them on Kamino. As they grew, they chose a name for themselves, based on what made them unique, and in choosing their name, they chose their own identity.

And Krell has taken that identity from them. They're not malfunctioning. They're _feeling._

Commander Tano is still waiting, a slight crease forming on her brow as the smile on her face fades. Soon, she's going to wonder why her reinforcements have all gone stock still. Soon, the clones who have names are going to start asking questions. And that can't happen.

It's time to take back his identity.

CT-4332 straightens up, steps forward, and looks Commander Tano in the eye.

"My name is Hollow, sir," he says out loud and his words echo off the dusty canyon walls, an endless proclamation of the name he's not supposed to say.

The tension over Hazard Company shatters.

Nobody else will understand, is the thing. He shares the same DNA as millions of other clones, spread across the galaxy, but nobody but those standing with him in this moment will understand the freedom that comes with taking back his identity.

Maybe it'll just last for this mission, away from Krell. Maybe he'll keep using this name for the rest of his life. But Hollow is _not_ just a number, _none_ of them are, and it's about damn time they all remembered that.

CC-5893 lets out a breath that will only be audible over the comms. "You can call me Reset," he says, and Hollow hadn't even _known_ his name before. All these soldiers that he trusts with his life, and he knows the names of only a handful.

After the mission, there will be time to learn them all. And he's never going to forget them.

Commander Tano's friendly smile is back, even as Jesse and Hardcase exchange bewildered glances.

"Good to meet you both," Commander Tano says brightly. "A name is always better than a number, right? Now, about those defences..."

A name is always better than a number.

As they follow the winding path to the bottom of the canyon, Hollow can't help but agree.

* * *

 **I had fun writing this, even if I did stay up most of the night finishing it. If you liked it, please review!**


End file.
